Monday, August 20, 2007

A little funny on public restrooms.

Yes, I'm shamelessly forwarding a funny one of my friends emailed to me!

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWNthere was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail .

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

Send this to all women that need a good laugh AND, don't forget to have a mammogram!!!!!! It could save your life!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

My heart goes out to all impacted by HWY 35 Collapse!

I've called my friends and they are all well. Thank goodness. A few of my friends I was unable to reach until this morning and I was worried. The Twin Cities is a huge metro... but I can't tell you how many times I've driven across that bridge... and this morning, as I crossed the bridges on 494, I admit to having moments of concern.

My friends and family have also been calling me to make sure we are all well.... and we are, thank goodness. I can't tell you how much of a tragedy this is for all of us here in Minnesota.

by Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woodsAnd over the walls I have wended;I have climbed the hills of viewAnd looked at the world and descended;I have come by the highway home,And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,Save those that the oak is keepingTo ravel them one by oneAnd let them go scraping and creepingOut over the crusted snow,When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,No longer blown hither and thither;The last lone aster is gone;The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;The heart is still aching to seek,But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of manWas it ever less than a treasonTo go with the drift of things,To yield with a grace to reason,And bow and accept the endOf a love or a season?

Question for you writers of erotica and poets on word usage.

Some people are deeply connected to anniversaries and spend a lot of time, money and energy on getting the perfect anniversary gift for our beloveds. My husband and I aren't the kind of people you'd describe as deeply connected to our anniversary though.... Nope, last year we both completely forgot our anniversary. It wasn't until a day or two after that we remembered! Anyway, this year I wanted to write an erotic poem for my husband. The only problem is.... I don't write in that genre. I've been reading up and I've found several articles on the difference of erotica and sexual fiction... and much of it seems to me to come down to word usage... glistening folds, heaving bosoms... versus other more... colorful or straight forward language. So, my question to you writers of the "mature"... when you write for men and in the form of poetry, what side of the word usage fence do you stand on? Do you go with words that I can't post here, or do you go with softer, more romantic imagery type of words?

I'm sure my husband will read it, say, "yeah that's great".... but it's the thought that counts and I want to get it right :)